Just Don't Think I'm Finished With You
by Anna Fay
Summary: After the Ministry opened the gates of Azkaban and gave the inmates a second chance as Snatchers, there's no better way to celebrate then with a new friend. [Part of my ongoing story, "She'll Be All Right", but with adult themes.]
1. Just Don't Think I'm Finished With You

The place had already been packed when they arrived not half an hour earlier, but it didn't stop more and more people – those freshly released from Azkaban and their friends, old and new – coming to The Leaky Cauldron to enjoy a night of good food, drinks, music and laughter.

"Let's get a room before they're all gone," suggested Tamora, leaning closer to Scabior's ear with a smile. She felt happy they bumped into each other again. She probably would have come here anyway, but since it was him and his papers that gave her the idea and consequently helped her to get her wand back, it felt right for him to be the man she celebrated with tonight.

She also enjoyed the way her words and her breath on his skin made him swallow hard before he complimented her on the brilliant idea with a fiendish grin, and loved how hungrily he returned her kiss, with his back against the door and pulling her close by the waist once they got up to their room.

It was a promising start; she loved men who loved to kiss, who were good at it, and most importantly, who didn't stop the moment they finally got her undressed and on the bed. And he never left her lips, not even when he parted her thighs and kneeled between them, so she had to turn her head with a moan to stop him.

"Just a second," she whispered, running a hand up his arm with a reassuring smile, then reaching behind her neck to feel for the clasp on the fine silver chain around it.

"Is that...?" he asked pulling slightly back, as she managed to take it off and opened the pendant to reveal a small vial, filled with a thick, but perfectly clear potion.

"It is." She nodded then, on a whim, she put a hand on his chest and nudged him to turn on his back. "Every witch's best friend," she smiled, turning with him and straddling his thighs.

Scabior seemed surprised, even impressed by the fact that instead of carrying it in her bag or in a pocket, she had it so close at hand, around her neck, but he didn't comment on it, just watched her putting a few drops of the protective potion in her palm, corking the vial again and throwing it away on the bed.

"I can already feel I'll get on very well with 'em too," he said with a grin, lifting himself on his elbows and taking a deep breath as she reached for his cock and started coating it with the potion.

"Yeah, I can tell," she laughed, working her own magic on him while they had to wait for the potion to take effect, then leaning closer and kissing him again as she let him enter her.

He didn't just lie back and let her have her way with him any longer, but sat up, pulling her close and keeping her close with one hand on the small of her back and the other roaming up and down her side, squeezing and caressing as she started moving her hips slowly, teasingly at first, then with more passion.

She loved it. The way he touched her, the way he kissed her, and of course the way he filled her every time she lowered herself onto him.

She loved it even when he put his hands on her thighs and tried to stop her, but lost his control anyway and came with a groan that sounded almost like a laugh, putting his forehead against her chest with a sigh afterwards, then looking up at her again with an apologetic smile.

"It's all right." She wiped some hair back from his face. "Just don't think I'm finished with you," she whispered with a grin. The night was long, and she had plenty of potion left, so nothing could stop them from celebrating the return of her wand and his release from Azkaban.

"Give me just a moment then," he laughed, lowering himself on his back and pulling her along, so she raised herself slightly on her knees and followed until their faces were level, before putting her chest back against his and looking down at him.

He had beautiful eyes, and they were so clear she couldn't help wondering how much time he had spent in Azkaban. Probably not that much. He didn't look like he had lost a lot of weight in the recent past, and while he had dark circles under his eyes and his face was a bit pale too, he didn't look sick either.

She guessed two or three weeks at most, but no matter how hard she tried to remember his papers, the only dates she could think of were the ones on her own.

"I 'ope you're not scared," whispered Scabior, running his hands up her side idly when he caught her looking at the tattoo on his neck.

"No." She shook her head, tracing his collarbone with a finger. Her life had been filled with the likes of him, even before her own trip to Azkaban. Family, friends, lovers – she had seen enough people with numbers and runes etched to their skin not to be shocked by few drops of magical ink.

"Good. 'Cause you've got nothing to be scared of." He nodded, cupping her arse and pulling her closer, until she lowered her head and kissed him again.

It started as a sweet, lingering kiss, but ultimately it made Tamora want him back inside her so much that soon she wandered from his lips towards his neck, then down his chest.

He buried his fingers in her hair when she neared his stomach, but it couldn't keep her from looking back up at him when she reached his abdomen and took his shaft in hand. His eyes begged her to do it and, when he finally felt her tongue, his mouth fell slightly open with delight. Tamora liked it so much that she licked her lips with a grin and made sure it stayed that way for some time.

"Should I stop?" asked Tamora, pulling away, but staying wickedly close when she felt like she couldn't get him any harder.

All she got for an answer was a shaky sigh and a somewhat pained laugh, because obviously at that moment he would have given her everything he had and then some to go on, but he was also getting very close to the point of no return, so she raised herself on her knees again and reached for the potion.

She coated him with great care, but when she was finished and moved closer to straddle him again, he pressed his lips together and swallowed hard, then took her by the waist and put her on her back.

"My turn," he whispered, pushing her wrists into the pillow with one hand, wiping her hair out of her face before lowering his head and kissing her long and hard as he entered her again, and Tamora moaned into the kiss and pulled her knees higher invitingly.

It felt so divine that when his lips moved from hers and he started kissing her jaw, she almost hesitated to stop him, and only tried to nudge him away when he reached her neck.

"Sorry, love," he chuckled, when he finally noticed her discomfort, giving her one last bite before lifting his head and feeling his own jaw. "Sorry," he crooned again, caressing her shoulder and neck soothingly. He probably thought she didn't like his stubble, but then it caught his eyes. "What's this?" he asked, rubbing his thumb against the side of her neck, smudging the paint further away.

"Nothing." She tried to raise her shoulder to hide it, and pulled him closer with her legs too, urging him to move inside her again, but her distraction failed.

"You're not a Squib. You've been to Azkaban." He nodded slowly, searching her face as he let go of her hands and brought his fingers down on her arm until he reached the other, truly unmarked side of her neck. "Naughty girl," he whispered with a smile.

He wasn't the first man to see her tattoo, but he was the first to smile like that when discovering it, and it gave her a strange, not entirely unpleasant throb in her chest.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, bringing her arms down in front of her chest, but then she put her hands on his shoulder instead. "Just fuck me, will you?" she added, running her fingers up his neck.

"Your wish is my command, love," he said, giving her a feral grin before claiming her mouth once again and, when he started moving his hips again, it soon washed away her worries about her no longer secret secrets.

This time he stayed away from her tattoo, but kissed her everywhere else he could reach, leaving behind a burning, tingling trail from the other side of her neck, through her shoulder and down to her breasts, and making her want more.

"Harder." She ran her hand down her back until she could reach his arse and grab it.

He complied with a laugh and more kisses, before he stopped for a moment and pulled away, shifting atop her so that he could gain more leverage, and when he started moving again, harder, as she wished, Tamora had to push her head back into the pillow with a series of delighted moans.

"Look at me, love," he whispered huskily, holding her by the thighs, lifting them higher and spreading them further. "That's it." He smiled when she met his eyes, and brought one of his hands to his lips, licking the pad of his thumb, and even though she knew what was coming, Tamora had to close her eyes once more when he reached between them and touched her.

But this time he didn't have to ask her, she looked back at him after a few moments, because it all looked too fine to miss. Her eyes lingered on his body for a while, but when she noticed that as he watched her, his lips opened on their own accord, his tongue running over them every now and then in a hungry, wolfish way, she couldn't turn them away again, not even when she came with a cry and a delighted laugh, or when he followed her closely.

She kept on watching him as he slowed his hips and pulled away, as he leaned closer and gave her a short, boyish kiss on the lips before rolling off of her, and even as he stretched beside her on the bed, rubbed his face and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. He looked as worn and happy as she felt.

"You want some water?" he asked, turning to her just when she thought he would doze off.

"Yes, it would be nice." She smiled, licking her lips, then watched him get out of bed and walking away towards the bathroom. For a moment she considered whistling after him, but she wasn't especially good at whistling - not even when her mouth wasn't this dry.

Soon he was out of sight anyway, closing the bathroom door behind himself, so Tamora got up too, to get her wand from her jacket and hide it between the mattress and the bed frame, because now that she had it back she would have hated to sleep with it lying around, out of her reach.

And who knew, maybe she would need it later.

Lying back on the bed, she scratched her neck idly, thinking about what she should do about the fiasco with her tattoo. He wouldn't have been the first man whose brain she tampered with, leaving memories of a sweet night, but without her face behind, and it would have been nice to do it with her own wand, instead of theirs this time, but before she could have given that any more thoughts, Scabior returned from the bathroom, with her glass of water in hand.

"Thanks." She reached for it with a smile, and brought it to her lips as he walked to his jacket.

"Mind if I smoke?" he asked, putting down his wand, money and the few more things he took from his pocket on the bedside, and Tamora wondered if his purse was charmed against thieves, or he just knew he looked like someone you wouldn't want to steal from.

"Not if I can get one too." She shrugged, leaning closer when he offered her the whole pack and moved to light the one she took for her. "Does it hurt?" she asked as he sat beside her, resting his left hand on his thigh. It looked like some curse had gone through it, maybe even years ago, but leaving quite a scar behind.

"It gets a little numb and achy when it's cold outside." Scabior shook his head. "But if I keep it warm, it's fine." He flexed his fingers.

"You look like you lead quite an adventurous life." She smiled, taking a long drag from her cigarette.

Apart from the one on his hand, he had many more scars, some almost invisible, like the small white dots peppered all over his right forearm, probably from a faulty wand or a backfiring hex, and others quite distinctive, like what looked to be a scratch from an unusually large cat above his left knee, or the just recently healed knife wound on his left side.

"Oh, the tales I could tell!" he laughed, but he didn't tell her any of them, so they smoked in comfortable silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts, and when they finished, it was time for Tamora to disappear into the bathroom.

And when she returned, he reached for her and pulled her closer again.

They were both getting tired, but she loved every lazy kiss and lingering caress, and when Scabior turned her on her stomach, kneeling behind her, she arched her back for him readily, briefly wondering if he would be the kind of man who loves painting a lover's arse pink with slaps of his hand between thrusts of his hips.

He wasn't, or at least, not that night.

He took her slowly, with his chest against her back, and his hands holding on to her arms, alternating between kisses and bites on the back of her neck and shoulder, and when he came only moments after her, he pressed his forehead against her hair and stayed that way for so long, that when he finally tried to leave her, she followed without a second thought, cuddling up to him and burying her nose in the crook of his neck with a content sigh.

She didn't want to fall asleep like that, or at least she wanted to wake up in time to deal with her traces and leave, but she was too tired to stay awake, and the Ministry knocked on the door too early in the morning to give her a chance to disappear.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading, and_ _please, tell me what you think._

 _Want to learn more about the characters? Try "She'll Be All Right"! :)_


	2. Please, Don't Stop

Tamora didn't need to open her eyes to know that she was alone in bed. It was big enough to let them give each other some space when they felt like it, but even then Scabior's hand usually found her, just like she always stretched her leg until she could touch his with it. She loved that, even if it was just the back of his fingers against her side, or her toes against his foot. She would have loved that even more now, that she was awake and the storm was getting worse.

Even though she could still smell his cigarette in the room, he wasn't sitting at table by the window. But there was a light around the bathroom door, and as the wind halted for a moment to gather some strenght for another attack, Tamora could even hear the water running inside, so she put her head back on the pillow with a tired sigh.

The wind came back suddenly, rattling the window, whistling under the frame, and reminding Tamora of why she woke up in the first place.

She could tell it sounded nothing like the waves against the rocks around the Isle of Azkaban, and that it smelled like good, ordinary rain, and not like the sea at all, but she could still feel her heart racing, and her neck burned as if the cold, dead fingers she dreamed of were real and still around it.

"Damn." She touched the side of her neck with a frown, realising that the pain was actually there, meaning that even with her nails filed within an inch of their lives, somehow she still managed to scratch herself in her sleep.

She kept on rubbing it for a little longer, but it only made things worse, so she turned over with a sigh, to have the tattooed side of her neck safely against the pillow. They all heard stories of witches and wizards who couldn't keep their hands off their marks and ended up with all sorts of terrible infections from disturbing the magical ink under their skin. Some said it could give you a rash compared to which dragon pox looked like a lovely May Day tan, while others insisted that it could even make your brain heat up and go fuzzy.

"Nonsense," huffed Tamora, pulling up one of her knees in front of her. Nobody she knew could name anyone to whom these things actually have happened, so it was most probably just a myth, created and spread by the Ministry itself, to keep people from trying to get rid of their tattoos. "Bloody nonsense," she moved her head around a bit, to knead the pillow into a more comfortable shape, then closed her eyes and decided to go back to sleep.

But of course every time she nodded off, there was a sudden blast of wind or a bolt of lightning to remind her of the nightmares in store for her, so she was barely dozing when Scabior finally turned off the water and came back to bed.

"Sorry, love." He looked at her as he realised that she was awake, and put a hand on her knee as she lifted it even higher and pushed her shin against his thigh.

"It wasn't you," she whispered, touching his arm.

"All right then." He patted her knee, but they both knew that all right wasn't the expression he was looking for here. As they were lying beside each other, both of them trying very hard to get some sleep, Tamora had to realise that Scabior was just as miserable as her.

His breathing was even, but in an unnatural way that suggested that he was putting effort into it, he was turning his head from side to side, trying to find a good position for it, and he kept on rubbing his free hand along his collarbone. Tamora couldn't tell if it was some old wound that still pained him, or that was where his demons liked to sit with all their weight, but she saw him do that a lot.

In fact, he had all the symptoms she knew all too well. It didn't even take a thunderstorm to wake him; she often found him sitting by the window and smoking, and sometimes he even left the room for a midnight walk around Diagon Alley or the nearby park. He drank like every self-respecting rogue should, but he seemed to be constantly hungry too; for meat, for sweets, and above all, for fruits. She had seen him eating apples the way Muggles think dragons devour maidens, and popping grapes into his mouth one after the other as if each of them had his name written over them. He also seemed to share her love for ridiculously long showers. After a night or two in the forest, where one could only chose between a quick Cleansing Charm or a dip in a freezing stream, they would let enough water that could fill a small lake down the drain, until the dirt that wasn't even there got washed away too.

"Do I 'ave somethin' on my face?" asked Scabior, but he waited for a moment or two before he opened his eyes and looked back at Tamora.

"No. Nothing." She shook her head slightly.

"Indeed." He grinned, and in the dark it took Tamora a while to decipher why he seemed so utterly pleased with himself.

"Oh, I see." She lifted her hand with a smile to caress his freshly shaven face, and he moved his head slightly, pushing his jaw into her palm. It made him look even more like a cat that brought her a mouse, or a half dead Cornish pixie in his mouth and expected a treat for it, so she leaned closer and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Is that all?" He frowned indignantly.

"What?" Tamora lifted her head. "You want a medal or something?" she laughed. "Where's mine for these baby smooth legs and what's between them?" She kneed him in the thigh gently.

"Fair enough," he hissed through his teeth, before licking his lips and looking her in the eyes. "On your back then!" he jerked his head, and he didn't even wait for Tamora to do as she was told, but turned her around, getting on top of her with a predatory smile.

Knowing that this could be the best possible way to drive the cold Azkaban left them with away, she reached for his face with both hands and pulled him close.

She suspected that Scabior would do everything in his power to emphasize the near magical transformation he went through in the bathroom, but the softness of the kiss almost made her giggle, because it was the sweetest thing she ever tasted on his lips. It delighted her to learn that he had it in him, and yet, when he moved on from her mouth and followed the line of her jaw towards her neck, she could not take it any longer.

"Stop teasing," she whispered and tilted her head back.

"I though you like it," he chuckled, moving further down her throat and it sent another pleasurable shiver down her spine.

"Oh, I like it." She arched her back for him. "But I want more." She squeezed his shoulder with a sigh as he returned to her lips and started all over again, with longer, harder kisses and bites, making sure she got what she asked for and then some.

Just as Tamora hoped, the wind outside slowly turned into a vaguely bothering background noise, and the chill in her bones wanished without a trace. She soon started to feel pleasantly warm, and by the time Scabior had to move back to be able to take off her panties, she felt like her skin was on fire.

"Look at you!" He knelt back between her thighs with a smile so smug, that it made her laugh and spread her legs wider, inviting him to take a good look before he went on. Not taking off her top, just pulling an arm out of one strap so that he could bare her breasts made it all feel like a quick skirts up, knickers down in some back alley, and it seemed to thrill both of them.

He took the offer and ran a hungry eye all over her while he undid the knot holding his hair, brushed more of it back and tied it up again with a face that suggested that he was preparing for serious business.

"All right," he sighed heavily to snap himself out of it when he was finished with his hair, then leaned over her for another searing kiss, but this time he didn't linger.

After what Tamora felt to be only seconds, he broke the kiss and started his way back down. He descended quickly, with only a brush of the lips here or the scrape of his teeth there, but as he reached her mound, he halted and looked up at her with a grin that made her quiver with anticipation. Then he lowered his head and gave her a reason to quiver some more.

It was a good thing he tidied up his hair, because her fingers were in it in no time, pulling it apart again. The shorter strands that were closer to his forehead freed themselves relatively quickly, and started to tickle the base of her thighs and the lower part of her stomach, but neither of them did anything to stop them. Scabior needed both his hands, and she enjoyed herself too much to care about such things.

"Oh my..." She pulled her knees even higher as his fingers entered her. It felt absolutely divine, and it got even better with every moment, so she arched her back with a long, but slightly breathless moan.

"Please, don't stop," she whispered urgently as she was nearing her climax, and reached for his free hand, because there was no need for him to keep her thighs apart, but she had to have something firmer than his hair to hold on. "Don't stop," she cried out, as the first waves of pleasure hit her, and he didn't stop, but pushed her over the edge with a a deep breath and a satisfied groan.

When she started to settle down, Tamora wanted to tell Scabior again not to stop, but decided to lay back and trust him instead. He seemed to know how much she needed just a few more licks and kisses, and only pulled away when she slackened her grip around his hand and stretched out one of her legs beside him with a satisfied sigh.

"That was fun," chuckled Tamora as he moved back, planting a few last kisses on the inside of her thigh and licking his lips like an overgrown cat.

"Good," said Scabior with a grin, raising himself and taking hold of her knees. He started pushing them apart again so that he could position himself between them and snatch her necklace containing the protective potion from the bedside. "'Cause there's more where it came from," he whispered when he got it, then dipped his head and kissed her hungrily, before sitting back again to apply it.

It was easy to see that he could hardy wait for the potion to take effect, but when he could finally fill her, he surprised Tamora by setting a slow, steady rhythm, and pulling out almost completely between thrusts. It was how they liked to drive each other crazy, but soon she realised that this time he wasn't teasing. He wanted it to last, and Tamora played along happily, loving every moment of it.

But she loved it even more when it ended, and Scabior barely pulled away. He moved from between her legs to take some of his weight off her, but laid close beside her, resting his head on her shoulder and putting an arm around her waist. The storm wasn't getting any better (if anything, it was getting worse), but ignoring it suddenly became a lot easier.

* * *

 _Here it is, Part 2. This time it's not connected to any of the chapters, but if you would like to learn more about Tamora and Scabior, and their relationship, give "She'll Be All Right" a try. Also, please read & review! :)_


	3. But I'm Not Calling You 'Sir'

_This piece is set right after Chapter 7 of She'll Be All Right, contains a bit of consensual spanking and a few (2) swear words. You've been warned. :)_

* * *

Their fellow Snatchers tried very hard to drown Scabior in free drinks for catching Runcorn, and all Tamora could do to save him was emptying all the glasses he handed to her. That, combined with five stories worth of narrow stairs they had to climb, meant that as soon as they reached their room she walked up to the bed and threw herself on it with a tired groan.

"Was everything all right with Yaxley?" she asked, resting her head on her arm as Scabior joined her, putting his hand on the small of her back, because she felt more than a little worried when the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement summoned Scabior to his office. He seemed fine when he returned to The Leaky Cauldron, but she wanted to make sure he was indeed fine.

"Of course." He nodded, stretching his legs contently. "'E wanted to reward me for catchin' Runcorn."

"Ooh!" She grinned, freeing her other arm from under her chest and reaching for his face before saying, "Please, tell me it's not just some plaque. Or at least that it's extra shiny!"

"It's not. It's a promotion," he replied with a grin as wide as hers. "I'll 'ave my own team. No Death Eaters, no Ministry people, and we'll take our orders directly from 'oever gets Runcorn's office next."

"Seriously?" Tamora raised her head from her arm, propping herself on her elbows.

"Seriouly," he laughed, pulling her closer. "And there's more," he added, savouring the look on her face for a little longer. "I get to chose my own men," he whispered, running his hand up and down her side.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe she was drunk, but it took her a few moments to realise what he was saying. "You want me in?" she asked, suddenly feeling and sounding very sober.

"Yes." Scabior looked up at her. "I'll need someone I can trust, so that we can watch each other's backs out there," he said, and he couldn't have surprised Tamora more if he wished her merry Christmas. They both stopped acting like it's been only for a few nights a while ago, and she even admitted to herself that it wasn't just about the sex or sharing the rent, but that line caught her by surprise.

Fearing that her words might fail her, she leaned in and planted a soft, lingering kiss on Scabior's lips to buy herself some time.

"Is that a yes?" he asked as Tamora pulled away.

"Yes." There were things she should have thought through before saying yes, but being on their own team (well, _his_ team) instead of taking orders from Death Eaters and anyone else who happened to be above them in hierarchy sounded too good to miss. "But I'm not calling you 'sir'," she warned him with a laugh.

"Are you sure?" Scabior asked with a frown that turned into a wolfish grin as soon as his hand reached her behind and gave it a squeeze.

"Pretty sure. " She shook her head defiantly.

"That's too bad!" he exclaimed, and sat up so abruptly that it almost made Tamora jump. "'Cause I can't 'ave rebels on my team," he grunted as he moved over her and straddled her legs, giving her a playful smack across the arse.

"Rebels?" laughed Tamora, pushing herself into his hand as he started rubbing the spot he just hit.

"Yes." He moved back slightly until he was sitting over the back of her knees. "Rebels and loudmouths," he hissed, punctuating each word with a slap and emitting a dark chuckle when she demanded another soothing rub by arching her back for him. But he did it, kneading her buttocks and the upper part of her thighs before hitting her again.

It wasn't the first time Tamora received a few swats from Scabior (or from other lovers), but being spanked without being simultaneously fucked was something new and exhilarating. True, each whack seemed to sting a little more than the previous one, but the accompanying massage more than made up for that.

"So? 'Ow's that 'sir' comin' along?" asked Scabior, running his hands down her backside, then back up along her thighs until his thumbs rested just between her legs, almost, but not really touching her sex.

"Why?" chuckled Tamora as she looked back at him over her shoulder. "Are you getting tired?"

"Not at all." He smiled at her and ran his hands further up so that they cupped her cheeks. "I could do this all night," he said matter of factly before giving her a slap hard enough to make her yelp.

"Yeah... Me too," she whispered. But no matter how tough she tried to sound, Scabior lifted himself off her legs with a laugh, and leaned forward to kiss her hair soothingly.

"Then maybe I should try somethin' else," he suggested, moving his lips to the back of her neck and pushing his hips forward so that she could feel his hardness through the fabric of their clothes.

"Sure. Bring it on!" replied Tamora with something between a ferocious hiss and a chuckle.

But just as she was about to start wriggling herself out of her pants, Scabior put a hand on her shoulder and lifted himself to sit back on her legs again. He traced the line on her spine through her clothes, then hooked his fingers under her waistband.

"You wanna stay quite still for this," he said in a low voice, and before Tamora could ask why, he drew his wand and started cutting her pants open by the seams at the middle. "Don't worry," he crooned, when she gasped with surprise. "I'll mend 'em for you."

"Oh yes, you will!" she laughed. But when he stopped for a moment and raised himself off her legs to pull her hips upwards, she pushed out her bottom and parted her thighs so that he could keep on runining her uniform.

It took Scabior the better part of a minute to cut its seams open. When he was done, he threw his wand on the bed and looked over her with a triumphant sigh, then moved back to tug the material further down her legs alongside her underwear.

"Where were we?" he inquired in his best businesslike voice, reclaiming his seat on the back of her knees. As he reacherd for her bottom, Tamora tensed in anticipation of the next whack, but instead of delivering it, Scabior moved his hand down between her thighs. "Oh yes... I remember!" He caressed her lips before parting them to make way for the tip of his thumb against her enterance. "Bringing it on," he whispered in her ear as he leaned over her and pushed in ever so slightly.

"Indeed," breathed Tamora, suddenly feeling quite impatient.

Luckily Scabior made considerably less fuss about removing his clothes than he did about hers. It didn't take him longer to unbuckle his belt and deal with his pants than it took Tamora to find the clasp of her necklace and open it, so that she could take it off and hand him the vial.

She wanted to take off her shirt too, but it proved to be a lot trickier then she would have thought. Her arms and head were still tangled in the fabric when Scabior grabbed her by the hips and pulled her towards himself.

"You need 'elp with that?" he asked with a chuckle, but when his hands moved, they went downwards, to cup her cheeks.

"N-no," groaned Tamora, and she yanked at the shirt, finally freeing herself from it. "I'm fine."

"Good," said Scabior with a nod.

He filled her slowly, with a single, long thrust of his hips, and Tamora could feel one of her feet lifting from the bed on its own accord. She didn't kick when he spanked her, or when he tore off her clothes, but she couldn't take this and stay still.

"These too." He ran a hand along her side, pushing the hem of her undershirt upwards. "I wanna see you naked."

Going against that order would have been Tamora's duty as a rebel, but she decided not to. She wanted to receive a good, thorough fucking, and not another smack, so for once she did as she was told and started undressing for him. Scabior followed the route of the fabric with his touch for a while, then he reached to help with her bra.

"That's better," he whispered, unhooking and caressing it open on her back, and as Tamora lifted her chest from the bed so she could take her bra and the undershirt off, he slid his hand under her to cup her breast. Then he leaned over to kiss her neck while he started moving his hips. He didn't put all his weight on her, but since she had his chest against her back, and her legs trapped by her pants and his thighs too, she felt deliciously pinned to the bed.

It felt even better when Scabior finally found a good rhythm and kept it, making her kick and gasp again.

"Uh-oh," chuckled Tamora as he lifted one of his arms and gripped the headboard to keep themselves steady as the ride was about to get harder, and she arched her back in anticipation. For someone with his level of assertiveness outside the bedroom, he was really good at lying on his back and letting her do whatever she pleased with him, but when it was time to turn the tables, he could really turn them too.

And it was time.

"Almost there," Tamora warned him when she felt like he was getting close, and she tried to reach between her legs, because she had to have just a little something to be able to follow him over the edge.

"Right," breathed Scabior, and he pushed himself up to kneel behind her. He missed a beat or two, but he gave Tamora the space she needed, and he could thrust into her deeper too, holding her still with both his hands on her waist.

When she came, Tamora felt like she could scream the whole inn up from their sleep, but her throat decided otherwise and allowed her only the faintest whimpers, so it was a good thing that Scabior cried out loud enough for the both of them.

He also seemed to be just as drained as she felt afterwards. He dropped himself beside her so hard she feared it would break the bed, and stayed quite still for a few moments with his hands above his head before he took a deep breath and let it out with a content sigh.

"So," she started, turning on her side to face him. "Is that what I'll get every time I step out of line?" she asked with a grin.

"'Ell, no!" laughed Scabior, and he lifted one of his hands to caress her face. "You enjoyed it too much."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome. :)_

 _I also have to thank_ _ **DragonMoonX**_ _for her help. She's the best._


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